Death Manor
by DizzyDreamer010
Summary: Based on American Horror Story, Death Manor tells the story of a young boy Seth and his family after moving a town that harbors a dark secret dating back to WWII. Complete with endless plot twists and suspense, will Seth discover what's being hidden and more importantly: survive? Rated M for mature themes, violence, and language. Read and Review! (Cover art isn't mine).
1. Welcome Home

_**Death Manor**_

CHAPTER ONE

**JUNE 10th, 2013:**

The moment we rolled our black Porsche into the driveway, I knew that my life was going to change drastically. I looked out the front windshield at the towering building in front of me. It was a very old looking house, but in great shape. It was a large, three story house that had an exterior of off-white stucco, in a rounded angular shape with a large protruding tower that rounded at the top in the heart of it. Many round and rectangular windows plastered the walls, and below the tower on the second story, there was a balcony with metallic railings.

"This house is amazing!"

My father grinned as he unbuckled his seatbelt and exited the car. My mother followed in suit. I slowly edged myself towards the door. Trying to prepare myself for a new life, a new image, new friends, new everything. Hell, it was terrifying.

Waiting in front of the gigantic white-wood double doors leading inside the mansion was the realtor, Mrs. Deen. She was a punctual woman, dressed in a dark purple business shirt that was buttoned up to her neck and wore a long skirt that was a shade darker (a plum color) that fell to her knees. Her auburn hair was neatly pinned in an up-do. She smiled graciously as my father went to shake her hand.

"Mr. Dermott, it's so nice to see you! Isn't the house just amazing? I told you it looked even better in person!"

My father smiled and gazed up at the towering manor. He was obviously impressed. He began to discuss the details of the home while I walked my way up to the doorstep; my mother wrapped her arm around me.

"So what do you think? I think you are really gonna like it here."

I observed the house, looking for anything to criticize, anything that I could pick at and deem not acceptable. But there was nothing; the house was truly perfect. The stucco had no cracks, the windows shone, the exterior lights were glimmering.

"I think it's beautiful…But it's so much different than Vermont. Really different."

"Yeah…Yeah it is. But I think you will like it. Just a little ways down is the beach. You can see the ocean. Maybe once you get to know some people you can go hang out down there?"

I simply nodded, knowing that my mother only meant well.

"Katrina, Seth, come on inside. You're gonna love it!"

We followed my father and Mrs. Deen inside the house, and in just a moment my eyes adjusted from the bright Californian sun to the vibrant and retro foyer. It was a circular room, with an elevator directly across the room from the door, with two archways leading to the rooms on the first story. The walls were covered in golden wallpaper with bronzish-green repeating design. The floor was covered in cracked marble. Lamps hung from each wall about five feet away from each other, with one gorgeous chandelier hanging from a metallic base on the ceiling that was patterned after a sun.

"As you can see, the house still keeps the essence of the art deco style of the nineteen-thirties. It was built in nineteen-thirty-seven, by a scientist for his family. None of the previous owners have remodeled anything, except for the kitchen and the master bath", Deen said to my parents in a bragging tone. My parents nodded in amazement.

"Mrs. Deen, we are so glad to have done business with you; when we saw this property for sale it was a dream come true. We are going to love it here in California. But, I must ask, why was the asking price so low on this house? I mean, it's the biggest house in town and it was 30,000 dollars cheaper than a house we were looking at in Oregon."

Mrs. Deen's smile faded and her eyes glossed over. She cleared her throat.

"Um well…a year or two ago, the previous owners were packing up to move, I believe the husband got a job transfer to the Midwest, and they discovered…human skeletons in a crawlspace in the basement."

My parents eyes widened, and I walked closer to the woman.

"How many?"

"Five."

"How long were they dead?"

"No one knows for sure but the bones were in horrible decay so it's believed that they could be as old as over sixty years."

"And none of the previous owners had any knowledge of these remains?"

"No. None of the four owners reported any strange events, and the crawlspace was hidden beneath many boxes and debris. It was hidden intentionally. It was locked; to see the contents the owners broke the latch door open with a crowbar."

Mrs. Deen regained her posture.

"I hope this info doesn't change your opinion on the house; their deaths happened so long ago, and the entire house has been cleaned. I wouldn't worry a bit."

My dad sighed.

"Well it is a gorgeous house, and we already bought the deeds. So, I guess it's just the past."  
Mrs. Deen smiled and nodded. My father turned to my mother and me.

"Dermott family, say hello to a new life!"

I was extremely exhausted, and I planned on taking a bath. I felt like my legs were going to give out from all the walking I had done to reach California. I decided to try out our new elevator. I gingerly pulled up the sleeves on my jacket as I stepped into the machine. It was extremely hot, maybe around ninety outside, but only seventy inside the house. I wasn't used to such hot weather. But I wore my jacket anyway. The button labeled "two" clicked under my finger. I brushed my black hair out of my eyes, shaking my head. _Seth Dermott, this is your new home. You're gonna start over. Get rid of you cynicism and rude attitude and become a better person._ The gravity around me altered as the elevator lifted me up. After a few seconds, the doors opened and I was met with a second foyer, which lead out in two different directions.

Everything was bare except for the wallpaper and lights. I maneuvered my way down the right corridor, my hand brushing against the green walls. There was an arch that led into what looked like a very old office, complete with a desk built into the ground. To the right there was a bedroom with a large closet. Finally, I found an old washroom with a claw foot tub. I had a towel and a spare set of clothes wrapped around my left arm, and I set the fabrics down onto the marble countertop.

I looked into the mirror; a tall, lanky sixteen year old boy with shoulder length wavy black hair and blue eyes stood before me. That boy sickened me. Looking away from the mirror, I began to unclothe myself, turning the golden faucet of the tub on hot. Once it was filled, I lowered myself into the steamy water, my hair loosening and swirling in the liquid. I could see the mist churning off the surface of the tub, and my muscles began to relax. The stress and worry the move had caused me began to dissolve off me, disappearing into the water.

A sudden noise, like a scratch, made me jump out of my hypnotic state. I looked around the bathroom, searching for the source of the noise. Gasping, I zeroed in on the mirror, which, covered in the steam of the bath, had a small message inscribed in scribbled handwriting:

"_Welcome Home." _


	2. Spark

_**Death Manor**_

Chapter Two

_**September 22nd, 1945:**_

"Why are you doing this to us?"

The sounds of muffled screams could be barely heard of the extremely loud record player, in which a soulful swing song echoed out of. The large glossy ceiling lights that drowned the basement in a greenish-white light flickered on and off. The tinkering of metal and the whooshing sounds of tubes could be heard in the darkness. The young men began to panic.

"Answer me damnit! You sick bastard!"

One of the men tied down by the leather restraints gained the courage to yell. He was given in return a harsh jab in the side by some type of surgical tool. He screamed out in pain, having no idea what attacked him. He turned to the other victim; he had no idea who this man next to him was but knew they both shared the desire to escape.

"Oh please don't fight it, my pets. You're helping me with a great work…"

Before they could ask who was speaking to them, or what the mysterious voice meant, their heads were pushed up, and dirt-caked tubes were shoved into their throats. They began to scream, only to hear the cackle of the mysterious voice. One of the men could feel blood filling his throat; the other was nearly passed out from shock.

"Now, this might hurt

The noise of pressure and the turn of a wheel caught their attention; they could feel something going down the tubes, quick, fast. A vile taste filled their mouths. Their eyes darted back and forth. Then silence.

"Hm…quite a fast reaction. Renae, stop the gas. And go store the bodies somewhere they can be retrieved later…I'd like to study them more closely…"

_**MODERN DAY:**_

**SETH**

_What the hell did that?_

My mind raced as I pulled the plug in the tub, letting the healing water flow down the drain. I jumped up in front of the mirror, my steaming body chilled to the bone by the air.

I wasn't hallucinating it. I could clearly see, written on the steam, Welcome Home. It wasn't in my parents writing. It wasn't mine. It was a sloppy print, nothing like my clean cursive. I glanced at the door, the metal lock was intact. A cold sweat dripped down my heated temple. The door was locked, yet a stranger wrote on the wall. My anxiety heightened. They were in here when I was in the bath with my eyes closed. What if they had seen me unclothed? The thoughts of someone with such vulgar knowledge of me caused my stomach to churn in on itself. My meds…where were my pills. I began to crave Buspirone; I needed it, so badly. I hurriedly put on my spare clothes (a polo, underwear, and jeans), and rushed out of the bathroom. But not before wiping away the message on the mirror. I didn't need people thinking I was more crazy than they thought.

**_KATRINA_**

"He is trying to adjust; I can tell. You can't rush him through things like this."

I stood over my husband, trying to convey to him how our son Seth felt. Rowan was a good father, but he didn't always understand our son like I did. I guess you could call it maternal instinct. Or you could call it open-mindedness. Seth, even though cold and distant to us, really was trying to adjust, to improve himself.

I remember that day, that horrible, horrible day, crystal clear.

MARCH 5, 2013:

I pushed open the front door, throwing my keys back into my black purse. It was really quiet for a Saturday, even for my household. I walked into the front room, noting that the television is off. Usually Seth liked to watch one of those cheesy sitcoms around the time he got back from school. That was just the first of my suspicions. I set my bag onto the counter in the kitchen, and I saw that Seth hadn't made himself a meal, even though he was a growing boy and had been home from school for an hour. I hesitantly made my way upstairs, afraid of what I might see. I walked down the corridor, tracing my hand on the wall. I could hear a muffled sound. When I realized it was sobbing, I ran as fast as I could to Seth's room.

"OH MY GOD! HONEY WHAT HAPPENED? SPEAK TO ME, PLEASE!"

MODERN DAY:

"Just…Rowan, you know he is a sensitive boy. He acts stone cold on the outside but we both know that he cares about other's opinions. Try and be supportive and patient."

Rowan stopped piling books from the cardboard home-depot box and looked me straight in the eyes; Seth looked so much like him. They shared the beautiful icy blue eyes and the raven hair. The only thing Seth received from me was his hidden compassion and his bone structure. They were such beautiful creatures.

I held my hand up to Rowan, my nails rubbing against his stubble.

"Just promise that you'll try and be more accepting. Make an effort."

"I will, Katrina. I promise."

**SETH**

"Damnit where are those pills?"

I went room to room, loosing myself in the mansion. That place really needed a directory. I passed by the old office again, noticing the lamp on the desk was now lit, unlike when I first saw it. No one other than me had been upstairs yet, so my stress of an intruder heightened.

"You know what…Dad was probably just messing with the electricity and override the power."

I returned to the elevator lobby, but not before turning the lamp off, the room being swallowed in darkness. I quickly escaped into the elevator, trying to quickly reach the first floor. I finally took time to observe the machine. The floor was marble, and the walls were a mix of golden metal and red paint. There was one small chandelier made out of thin crystals. The doors opened, my mother, Katrina, appeared before me.

"Seth where have you been? I see your using the elevator, do you like it?"

I gingerly walked towards her. My hands were shaking, withdrawals.

"I was taking a bath upstairs and yeah I like it. It's convenient."

Well, I have some good news! Some of the people in the neighborhood are here to welcome us!"

I widened my eyes, and my dad walked in from the left of me (where the family room was), a trail of about eight people following him. They were all very different looking, of different races, hair colors, and heights. My dad was being his usual charismatic self, chatting them up. But one of them caught my eye in particular.

He was a boy who looked about my age, with blond hair and brown eyes. He was taller than me, if that was even possible, and wore a graphic tee and shorts. He locked eyes with me, his face neutral. Such deep, pretty eyes.

"Come on; introduce yourself to the nice people!"

My dad urged me, and I awkwardly walked up to the boy, and waved.

"Hi, my name is Seth."


End file.
